


April Rain

by CosmicZombie



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 11:18:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3247706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicZombie/pseuds/CosmicZombie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Is it really so bad that I went out without a coat yesterday?” Jimmy murmured, smiling weakly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	April Rain

**Author's Note:**

> This is a (very belated) prompt for the lovely routine-inchoire who asked for 'taking care of each other while they're sick'. Hope you enjoy it! <3

“I told you this would happen,” Thomas sighed, pulling up the chair from Jimmy’s desk and sitting down beside the bed where Jimmy was lying. He set a mug of steaming tea down on the bedside table and looked at Jimmy.

 

The footman was propped up against his pillow in bed, his blonde hair in a tangled mess and his cheeks flushed. He blew his nose as Thomas sat down, sniffing sadly. Even though he was pale, clammy and dishevelled, Thomas still couldn’t help thinking how beautiful Jimmy was.

 

“I’m fine,” Jimmy sniffed stubbornly, coughing.

 

“You shouldn’t have gone out in the rain yesterday,” Thomas said, lighting a cigarette and putting the box out of reach when Jimmy eyed them hopefully.

 

“Well, there’s no point in telling me that _now_ , is there?” Jimmy said irritably, his voice hoarse. He struggled to sit up a little, coughing again. 

 

“I told it then, too,” Thomas reminded him coolly.

 

Jimmy scowled, looking most disgruntled. “You being right is hardly going to help me get better, is it?”

 

Thomas raised his eyebrows slightly. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise that it was my responsibility to nurse you back to health. It’s not as though I have anything else to do, is it? I’m sure Mr. Carson will be happy to do all my jobs for me so I can sit and look after an idiotic footman who’s too damn stubborn to go out in the rain with a coat,” Thomas finished, exhaling a plume of smoke.

 

Jimmy attempted an angry retort in response Thomas’ sarcasm, but it ended up just being a particularly violent coughing fit.

 

“Here,” Thomas sighed, handing Jimmy the glass of water sitting by the bed.

 

Jimmy snatched it grumpily and took a gulp.

 

“Look, I’ve only got half an hour just now. But I’ll come back as soon as supper is finished too,” Thomas said, his tone softened. “If it’ll help.”

 

“Why do you think I asked?” Jimmy said weakly, settling back down against the pillows and sniffling. “It’s so _boring_ being stuck here all day with nothing to do.”

 

“You don’t need to persuade me of that,” Thomas smiled wryly, remembering the incredibly boring few weeks he spent in bed with nothing to do while he was recovering from his injuries after the fair. “I know what it’s like.”

 

Jimmy looked slightly abashed, and remained silent. Thomas felt mildly guilty for bringing the subject up; he knew it was a source of discomfort for Jimmy as well as him. Instead of apologising and therefore acknowledging the truth of the matter, he gently handed Jimmy the steaming mug of tea, which Jimmy took gratefully. Fleetingly, Thomas wondered at how gorgeous Jimmy could still look when his hair was a mess and his skin was pale and sweaty and his nose was red from blowing it too many times.

 

He hadn’t let himself be alone with Jimmy for weeks; it was easier. When there were other people in the background, Thomas could trust himself not to say something he’d regret, to make his feelings painfully evident and ruin their friendship. He was expert at maintaining a cool mask around other people, but with Jimmy, he found it nearly impossible. So it was easier if there were others around when he spent time with Jimmy, because it meant Thomas couldn’t do something he’d regret.

 

“I haven’t seen you properly for weeks,” Jimmy coughed, as though he’d read Thomas’ thoughts. He blew his nose and looked at Thomas imploringly.

 

“What do you mean? You see me every day,” Thomas frowned, taking a drag of his cigarette and looking at Jimmy.

 

Jimmy opened his mouth, but then closed it again, shaking his head and merely taking a gulp of the tea Thomas had brought him. Thomas wondered whether it was his imagination or whether Jimmy really did look nervous— perhaps it was just the symptoms of his cold.

 

Thomas smoked in silence for a while, as Jimmy sipped the tea. It wasn’t exactly an uncomfortable silence; just one which seemed too full of things which weren’t said.

 

“It’s at times like this that I miss my mum,” Jimmy said unexpectedly, breaking the silence and setting the mug back down on the bedside table and looking at Thomas. His eyes seemed bluer than ever in the uncharacteristic pallor of his face. “She was always so lovely to me when I was ill. It was almost worth being ill just for how nice she was,” Jimmy smiled weakly, sniffing.

 

“What did she do?” Thomas asked after a moment’s hesitation; Jimmy hardly ever mentioned his parents, or anything remotely personal. Whenever he did, it made Thomas feel stupidly privileged, as though Jimmy actually valued him. 

 

Jimmy blew his nose and coughed a little, shifting on the pillows. “She’d make me soup and read to me and stroke my hair until I fell asleep,” he said thickly, taking another sip of tea and setting it back on the bedside table.

 

“Well, I can certainly read to you. I don’t know about the other two though, I’m afraid— I’ve never been much cop at cookery and Mrs. Patmore wouldn’t let me in the kitchen if her life depended on it, and you certainly wouldn’t want me stroking your hair,” Thomas said, smiling, although a pang of sadness shot through him as he said the words that he so wished weren’t true.

 

“Wouldn’t I?” Jimmy asked hoarsely. His blue eyes were wide. The April rain poured down outside, drumming against the window.

 

Thomas blinked, almost choking on his lungful of smoke. “What?”

 

“Please?” Jimmy whispered, shifting a little on the pillows. His eyes were bluer than ever in the pallor of his face and full of uncertainty.

 

“You— you want me to stroke your hair?” Thomas said slowly. His heart felt as though it was trying to escape from his chest.

 

Wordlessly, Jimmy nodded. “Please.”

 

With trembling fingers, Thomas tentatively extended his arm and began to stroke the tousled blonde curls off Jimmy’s forehead. They were silkily soft despite their tangles, and Jimmy’s eyes fluttered shut at the contact, and he let out a contented sigh. Thomas swallowed, feeling torn between happiness because he’d always dreamed of being close to Jimmy like this, and sadness because he knew he probably never would be again.

 

“Mm, that’s nice,” Jimmy murmured hoarsely, moving closer into Thomas’ touch. “What did your mum used to do when you were ill?”

 

“My mum was too ill to take care of me when I was,” Thomas said quietly, curling a lock of Jimmy’s hair round his index finger. “I learnt to look after myself.”

 

“Well, I can look after you now,” Jimmy said sleepily, sighing softly.

 

Thomas smiled sadly. “I think you’re running a temperature. Your forehead’s all clammy and hot.”

 

“Are you just saying that because you don’t think I’d really want to look after you?” Jimmy asked croakily, making a contented sound in his chest as Thomas stroked a few stray strands of hair off his forehead with cool, gentle fingers.

 

“Well, apart from anything else, I doubt Mr. Carson would be thrilled about you becoming a nurse and neglecting your duties every time I caught a cold,” Thomas said lightly, but his heart was heavy in his chest. “But I know you have better things to do with your time, anyway.”

 

“I don’t,” Jimmy mumbled— but he didn’t elaborate and lapsed into silence as Thomas continued to stroke his hair. He stayed silent so long that Thomas was convinced that he’d fallen asleep. It was only then that Thomas allowed himself the luxury of taking in the perfect shape of Jimmy’s slightly parted lips, the flush standing out on his cheekbones, his soft blonde waves of hair, and smiled sadly. Even when he was running a temperature and he was clammy and ill, Thomas thought that Jimmy was still undeniably the most beautiful man he’d ever seen.

 

“See, was it really so bad that I went out without a coat yesterday?” Jimmy murmured suddenly, his voice hoarse but undeniably awake. 

 

Thomas’ hands froze where they were entangled in Jimmy’s hair, heart suddenly beating very fast. “You _purposely_ went out without a coat in the rain so you’d get ill?”

 

“So you’d be here,” Jimmy clarified hoarsely, opening his eyes. Thomas’ hand was still motionless in his hair. “I knew you’d take care of me.”

 

“But— _why_?” Thomas frowned, perplexed. He realised his hand was still tangled in Jimmy’s golden hair, and hastily removed it, clenching it in his lap as he stared at Jimmy in confusion, somehow feeling as though he’d been tricked.

 

“You never spend time with me alone now,” Jimmy whispered croakily, staring wide-eyed at Thomas. “I—I thought that perhaps if I was ill, you’d come up here and I’d finally be able to speak to you.”

 

“You can speak to me anytime,” Thomas said sadly.

 

“Not properly— not _alone_ , not just the two of us,” Jimmy protested hoarsely.

 

Thomas stared uncomprehendingly at him, his heart racing.

 

“Oh, for crying out loud, Thomas!” Jimmy exclaimed, his voice croaky. “I’m trying to tell you how much I _like_ you, you bloody idiot!” He promptly subsided into a violent coughing fit, and Thomas shakily handed him the glass of water again.

 

After his coughing had subsided, Jimmy sat up, grasping Thomas’ hand in his and looking intently at Thomas. He looked so perfect in that moment, with his tousled blonde hair and red nose and flushed cheeks looking at Thomas imploringly that Thomas wanted to capture the moment forever.

 

“I—I’ve been trying to tell you for ages… but I couldn’t quite find the right moment,” Jimmy said hoarsely, taking a deep breath and sitting up a little straighter against the pillows. “Thomas, I want to smoke cigarettes with you every morning. I want to look after you when you’re ill. I want to wake up beside you. I want everything that you thought I didn’t. I want _you_ , Thomas.”

 

Thomas felt as though his heart had stopped. For a moment, he just stared at Jimmy’s tousled blonde curls and wide, anxious eyes and wondered if he was in a dream. Then Jimmy stroked his thumb over Thomas’ hand where they were intertwined, and Thomas suddenly couldn’t stop the smile which split across his face. He felt as though he’d never smiled so widely in his life. His heart was racing and his chest felt light and free now that it no longer had to suppress its feelings. He felt as though he’d been locked up in a tiny space for years, and now suddenly he could breathe.

 

“You— you purposely made yourself ill just so you could get me alone,” Thomas smiled, shaking his head in disbelief. “You went out in the pouring April rain.”

 

“Aren’t you glad I did?” Jimmy grinned. He was smiling even wider than Thomas, and Thomas thought that he had never looked more beautiful than he did in that moment with his blonde hair tangled and his nose red and his blue eyes shining with undeniable and overwhelming happiness.

 

Instead of replying, Thomas tentatively brought Jimmy’s hand up to his mouth and kissed it softly, his heart racing at the feeling of Jimmy’s skin under his lips and the soft, contented little sound Jimmy made. Thomas shifted closer to the bed and reached up to stroke Jimmy’s hair again with his other hand.

 

“See, I told you it wasn’t so bad I went out without my coat yesterday,” Jimmy grinned, sighing blissfully as Thomas stroked the hair off his forehead. He leant into the touch, staring up at Thomas. “April showers. I might just have to do it again.”


End file.
